Missing Scenes
by Lostinfic
Summary: Some missing scenes from season 2, if Hannah were in Broadchurch. I don't even know what this is, I just like to think about them together. Could be set in the same 'verse as "Adrift" if you need some context.
1. Episode 1

Hannah stepped out of the house and sat on the steps next to Hardy. She knew he wasn't a fan of the rental property because of its proximity to the water, but she liked the quietness of the harbour in the morning. It was far better than the Trader's. Maybe she'd stay longer this time.

Hardy looked pointedly at her mug of tea.

"There's more in the kitchen."

He nodded but didn't move.

She leaned against him, resting her cheek on his shoulder while he read his mail. She knew he had a big day ahead, but she fought the need to ask how he felt. He'd just tell her he's fine anyway. She kissed his sleeve between two sips.

"I'm fine."

"I didn't say anything."

"Well, I can hear you think."

"Can you also hear me think about what I'll do to you tonight? Maybe if I can concentrate hard enough you could even see it."

She scrunched up her face and rubbed her temples.

"Can you see it now? I'll give you a hint, it's the blue bra."

At least, that earned her a quick chuckle.

"The blue, eh?"

He discarded the letter and put an arm around her back, stroking her naked shoulder with his thumb. She sipped the rest of her tea in silence, looking out at boats crisscrossing the bay and at the birds doing a similar pattern in the sky. A young man had offered her a ride on his sailboat yesterday, maybe she'd do that today.

His watch beeped, indicating it was time to take his medicine.

While he was inside, Maggie and Olly walked up to the house. They studied her with circumspection, and she gave them nothing more than a curt nod. She stood up, making sure to give them an eyeful of the "juicy" written across her bum on her pyjama shorts. Let them have something to gossip about.

"They're here," she announced to Alec as she stepped inside.

"What? Is that now? Urgh, give me a minute."

"I take it I can have the second cup," she said, already pouring the rest of the tea in her mug.

The journalists waited outside while Hardy went to the bedroom to pick a jacket and tie.

"I'll see you after the court hearing," he said, placing a hand on the small of her back to kiss her temple, "and stop it with the naughty telepathy, it's very distracting."

She laughed and sent him away with a slap on the arse.

"Oi!"

* * *

><p>As he approached the blue house, Alec noticed right away that the door was ajar and a window was broken.<p>

"Hannah!"

"Someone broke in," she said, walking out.

Alec rushed past her and in the house, looking through drawers and cupboards. She told him nothing was missing but that didn't seem to calm him down.

He turned to Hannah, he touched her hair, her face, her shoulders, he held her forearms, inspecting them on both side. He was breathing heavily through clenched teeth.

"Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I was at Waitrose, I came back and the door was opened..."

He ran a hand through his hair before falling back on the couch. He had that look on his face, like he was trying to count every teeth in his mouth and then got super irritated because he'd missed one and had to start all over again.

Deciding to let him cool off, she emptied the grocery bags, which contained mostly prepared meals and snacks, neither of them was very keen on cooking.

She'd heard on the radio that Joe Miller had pleaded not guilty, she didn't know exactly what that entailed but judging by Hardy's reaction to a minor break-in, it couldn't be good.

She opened a bag of crisps, and he glared at her when it rustled. Hannah rolled her eyes.

"I'll be in the bedroom."

She'd just finished fixing her hair when he walked in, dragging his feet. He'd gotten rid of his jacket and tie.

"You heard about…"

"Yeah… How's Ellie?"

"Not so well… I even offered her a hug."

"You did?" Hannah replied, laughing. "How did that go?"

"She looked at me like I was barmy. I mean, it's what people do, no?"

"Well, she doesn't know what she's missing."

She took a step towards him, his hands were in his pockets so she slipped her arms between his and his waist. He kissed the crown of her head before hugging her back. His deep sigh ruffled her hair, and she stoke his back until he stopped being so stiff.

"I wanna be selfish and keep you here," he whispered, tightening his hug.

"Why d'you say that for? I'm not leaving yet."

"You should, you're not safe here."


	2. Episode 2

Set between episode 1 and 2

* * *

><p>Sunlight filtered through Hannah's eyelids, shades of orange and pink moving to the rhythm of the waves. The mattress shifted, and she felt a kiss, more scruff than lips, on the back of her neck. She caught Hardy's arm when he tried to move away from her. There was something she needed to ask him, but her mind was too hazy to remember.<p>

"You gonna let me go?" his voice was thick with sleep and laced with amusement.

Eyes still closed, she shook her head and tightened her grip on his limb. He traced idle circles around her navel, and all her sluggish senses zeroed in on that pleasant sensation and the way it echoed lower in her body. Warmth dripped from his fingertips and pooled between her legs.

"Do that thing again," she mumbled, trying to push his hand further down.

"This?"

He tickled her and she automatically curled in on herself, giggling.

"No, stop, stop! The other thing, the nice thing!"

She arched her back and pushed his hand lower between her legs.

"You're very high maintenance," he whispered against her neck as his fingers skimmed her nether lips.

"You love it."

"I love you."

She craned her neck to catch his lips. Morning breath aside, these lazy kisses, early in the day, were amongst her favourites and she missed them when they were separated. As his fingers started making good on their promises, his phone alarm blared.

"Please snooze."

"I've already snoozed three times. Some of us can't afford to stay in bed all day."

"Some of us do their best work in a bed."

She stretched languorously hoping to change his mind, but his warm embrace left her. Reality caught up with her. She remembered now what they were supposed to talk about yesterday but never had: he'd said she wasn't safe in Broadchurch and should leave.

She turned on her back to look at Hardy. He was propped up on one arm, looking down at her, his eyes a soft, clear brown in the morning light. She gently swiped his fringe to the side to get a better look at him, and he smiled lightly.

"Good morning."

"Good morning."

She touched a patch of gray on his beard that had appeared a little prematurely as a result of the last year's stress. He disliked being reminded of it, but she thought it suited him. It also reminded her of how long they'd known each other and how far they'd come to finally be able to share a house.

Her heart clenched.

She didn't want to go.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, fine, erm, shouldn't you get dressed?"

She figured that sending him to work would delay the conversation and therefore her departure for at least another day. Postponing was fine until she started worrying. After all, she had no clue whatsoever about the kind of danger she may be facing. When she walked up the high street later that day, she found herself glancing behind her in case anyone was following, and her favourite café was suddenly populated by potential murderers.

She knew Hardy was working on something despite the fact that he was no longer a DI. She'd seen him lock up files in a drawer, and he'd get lost in thoughts a lot, the kind of thoughts that made him clench his teeth. She hadn't asked any questions so far. She'd clung to their peace and happiness, hoping foolishly that it would last. But now she had to know.

She was in the middle of a conference call when Hardy came back home. She covered the receiver with her hand to give him a quick kiss before getting back to arguing.

"No, it's 12 inches long, I'm telling you."

She giggled at the astonished look on Hardy's face.

"Not what you're thinking," she mouthed.

She finished her call and sat on the kitchen counter, legs flapping nervously. While Hardy dried the dishes— she'd washed them earlier but he refused to let them dry in the rack— they chatted about their day and the trial beginning tomorrow.

"Did anyone talk to you or come to the house today?" he asked.

"Only people I knew… maybe it's time you tell me what's going on."

He put the towel away and placed his hands on her jeans-covered knees. His serious expression made her stomach drop.

"There's someone from a past case," he spoke slowly, "a killer who walked free."

"The Sandbrook case?"

He nodded slightly.

"He may be back in the country, and I've got things— people— to take care of, and I can't worry about you at the same time."

Oh.

So that's it, she would be a distraction, a nuisance.

"So, what's your plan?" she asked curtly.

"I can't tell you that," he answered, crossing his arms.

"Can't or don't want to?"

"I don't want to."

At least he was honest.

"But you're gonna tell Ellie?"

The look he gave her clearly indicated that he had intention of getting into that argument. She looked down, fiddling with the tassels of her scarf. She didn't want to be that kind of woman. She wasn't even jealous, just… confused.

"Please, Hannah. If he's really back… if he wants to hurt me and he knows about you…"

He rubbed her arms and gave her a pleading look. He didn't need to finish his sentence for a spike of fear to shoot through her guts.

"What if he does hurt you, though?"

"He won't. I'll be fine. I've got it covered."

"You said that the last time and you almost killed yourself, so forgi—" The words caught in her throat, she pressed her lips to the back of her hand, trying to reign in her emotions, before talking again. "Forgive me if I'm not exactly reassured."

He stepped between her legs and wrapped his arms around her. His strength had always been her weakness. She tucked her head under his chin and took a few deep breaths, the woodsy undertones of his cologne soothed her.

She didn't want to cry, but she'd been so scared to lose him last year, and all that fear was resurfacing now.

"I'll be… careful," he said.

She snorted.

"You expect me to believe that?"

His silence spoke volumes. They remained embraced without speaking a word, hearts heavy and minds heavier. There were so many things at stake and the foundation of their relationship suddenly seemed too brittle.

"It's not just that, though," she said, leaning back on her hands, "I mean, finally, after years, the timing was right, we're free and ready and happy… I don't know…."

"You have to understand, Hannah, it's not that I don't want you here, but I need to finish this and after—"

"It's always gonna be after something, though, isn't it? After Christmas, after the divorce, after this case, after—"

"After your clients."

They glared at each other, and Hardy stepped away from her, crossing his arms and leaning back against the opposite counter.

"There are other people involved: witnesses, parents… I didn't ask Ashworth to come back."

"Maybe not, but it must've been your plan all along, no?"

"What are you after, Hannah? Want me to choose between you and getting justice? M'not gonna do that."

"'Course not!"

Only heartbreak would result from that, whichever he chose.

She hopped off the counter and walked to the front room window. She looked out at the clusters of lights blinking in the violet night around the harbour. When her eyes defocused, she caught sight of Hardy's reflection on the glass pane; he was standing in the doorway, hands in pockets, looking at her. She mulled over what she wanted to say to him and how to say it to him. Finally, she turned around.

"I love you, Alec, and I want you to finally close that case… no that's— I want you to find peace, that's what I want, even if it means that we have to be separated… but I'm scared for you and for us."

She covered her mouth with trembling fingers, waiting for his reaction. The distance between them felt so cold.

"And I'm scared for you, so…"

"Great, so we agree on that."

She chuckled wetly and they each walked towards the other. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let his thumb linger on her cheek, looking at her with eyebrows drawn together.

There was so much he wasn't telling her.

She'd never wanted to get involved in someone else's problems until now. Wanting to help went against every self-preserving mechanism she'd ever had.

He must have guessed from the way she squared her shoulders, that she was about to protest because he shook his head. There was a sadness in his eyes and yesterday he'd said he wanted to be selfish and keep her here. It wouldn't take much to change his mind. She knew it and he knew it. But it wouldn't be the best way to help him.

"I've got a meeting in Bournemouth tomorrow, I'll leave after," she said, "just… promise me you'll take good care of yourself, and of Ellie too, and you'll call."

He nodded and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. That was hardly a promise.

"You know, once it's over I probably won't need to stay in Broadchurch."

"London?"

"Could be."

Her weak smile mirrored his own, both unwilling to get their hopes up, but she took his hands and squeezed them affectionately.

"I'm hungry, let's get something."

She started walking away, but he pulled her back to him by the hand. He kissed her and that kiss told her more about his love and fear than any words in any language could have.


	3. Episode 2 part 2

Set during episode 2

* * *

><p>"Who are you calling shitface?" Hannah asked as she walked into the living room where Ellie and Brian were dusting for prints.<p>

The SOCO looked shamefaced for about half-a-second, then he saw her. He refrained from whistling, his eyes grew wide and curious instead— the usual reaction when people realized she was with Alec.

"And what should I call you?" he asked with a leer.

She almost answered "Mrs. Hardy" just to see his reaction, but they were trying to keep the gossips to a minimum.

"Call me Hannah."

Ellie and her exchanged greetings and a few pleasantries. They'd only met twice, yet she practically knew the other woman's whole life story. Ellie, on the other hand, knew next to nothing about her. And Hannah really didn't know what to say to her. She started picking up stuff around the room to hide her discomfort.

"Are you leaving?" Ellie asked, eyeing Hannah's suitcase.

"Yeah, I've got a meeting this afternoon, and I'll go back to London tomorrow. Alec said it'd be better, what with everything going on.

I might even go on a holiday or something."

"He told you about Lee Ashworth?" she whispered the name so Brian wouldn't hear.

"Sort of…" She pursed her lips, considering what she was about to say. "He's dragged you into this hasn't he?"

"I'm helping him."

Hannah smiled tightly. It hurt her pride that another woman was a better fit to help her boyfriend, but she tried to push those feelings aside. She quite liked Ellie after all, and she hoped Hardy's single-mindedness wouldn't hurt her, she already had enough trouble as it was.

"Sometimes, Alec, he thinks he knows what everyone needs better than themselves. So you tell him if he's being an arse, yeah?"

"Tell me about it," Ellie replied with an eye roll. "Called him a wanker yesterday."

Hannah giggled and nodded approvingly.

"You can call him a wanker but I can't call him shitface?" Brian commented.

He shook his head and exited the house as the women kept on laughing.

"Ellie? Can I leave you my number if, you know, just in case, something happens? You know about his heart, yeah?"

Ellie nodded and they swapped numbers. They exchanged a few anecdotes about Hardy's grumpy attitude and general rudeness, before she had to leave to catch the train to Bournemouth.

She was buttoning up her white coat when Ellie said:

"Uhm, Hannah, maybe don't go away for too long, I think he's gonna need you."

Ellie knew more than her about the Sandbrook case, and if she thought Hardy might need Hannah, it didn't bode well. On the way to Bournemouth, she distracted herself by thinking of all the things she would do in London and couldn't do in Broadchurch.

* * *

><p>When Hannah came out of the shower, she heard people talking in the other room. It was late at night so she worried immediately. She quickly slipped on a pair of knickers and a camisole and tiptoed out of the washroom.<p>

"Oh, Miller I could just kiss you," she heard Alec say.

"… Just promise me she'll be safe."

"She'll be safe."

Hannah leaned against the door jamb, arms and legs crossed.

"You could just kiss her?"

"Sorry, didn't realize you were there."

"Not making it better."

He scratched his neck and took a tentative step towards her. She pretended she hadn't noticed his laboured breath and walk.

"What have you got to say for yourself?"

She wasn't really crossed, but she enjoyed seeing him a little flustered. He caught on when she bit back a smile.

"I could kiss her," he said, approaching her more cocksure, "but I'd rather kiss you."

"Oh, you smooth bastard."

She dragged her hands up his chest to meet behind his neck. He smirked, and she felt his confidence in the way he kissed her, pressing his mouth firmly to hers, hands holding her waist to guide her back against the wall.

"Anything else you'd rather do to me?"

"I can think of a few things."

He took her hand and guided her towards the bedroom.

The room was dark, safe for moonlight coming in through the window and bouncing off the mirror by the bed. In the dimness, it dawned on them that this could be the last time for a long time. His playful and confident kisses turned sorrowful.

It was a quiet affair, disrobing with featherlight fingers and savouring each other's skin. Bodies wrapped together, they writhed on the worn-out quilt, clutching hands and breathing the same ragged breaths.

It was a night for fragile promises and stormless pleasures, for greed and abandon.

They made it last as long as they could, delaying climax with shallow thrusts and endless kisses. It built up slowly from the tip of their toes to the last hair on their heads, and it ended at the juncture of their lips with a muted moan.

Hardy's fingers played a silent nocturne along her spine from neck to tailbone. It made her skull tingle, and it lulled her into a peaceful altered state of mind.

They were quiet, happy as long as the sun remained hidden. He kissed her shoulder, then turned away to rest on his back. He beckoned her over with one glance, and she cuddled up to him, putting her head on his chest, sparse hair tickling her nose. He caressed her hair but it soon turned into an automatic gesture that told her he must be deep in thoughts.

She tilted her head up and was surprised to see him smile.

"Maybe don't buy that train ticket just yet. With what Miller told me earlier, this could be over sooner than I'd thought… if all goes according to plan."

Hope bubbled up in Hannah's chest, and they smiled at each other.


	4. Episode 3

Set during episode 3

* * *

><p>At high tide, when she sat on the concrete with her feet dangling above the water, the waves would tickle her toes. With a kick, Hannah sent some drops flying into an arc, catching in the shy sunrays when they reached the highest point. It was too cool for a dip now, but maybe later. She pulled the blanket higher up on her shoulders and brushed her cheek on the silky chenille fabric.<p>

In London, she could tell what time it was just by the noises outside her windows. Here, everything had seemed so quiet at first, but she was learning the noises of Broadchurch. Fishermen ships and cruise boats had distinct sounds just like morning and afternoon birds did. And it was the polite murmur of citizens greeting each other on the streets that woke her up in the morning instead of car honks and multilingual commuters cursing the weather.

It must be around 5am now, she guessed.

She'd always had strange sleep patterns, but last night she hadn't slept at all.

"Get away from the water, you're making me nervous," Alec said from somewhere behind her.

She didn't even look at him. He'd been in a foul mood since yesterday and it was contagious.

Yesterday afternoon, she'd come back from her jog and had found him asleep on the couch, looking the worse for wear. She knew that he was supposed to do something important at Ellie's old house, but he'd refused to tell her what had happened. She'd gathered that nothing had gone as planned. The mood had only deteriorated when she mentioned his health. He'd been in pain, it was written all over his face, even though he'd said he would be careful.

Arguing, she could deal with, they'd done that and made up plenty of times. But this sulking speckled with snarky comments was new and unnerving. It was the kind of thing an old and bitter married couple would do. It wasn't them. They'd always been forthright with one another.

He'd spent the night on the couch. His own decision. She was starting to think her mother had been right about not going to bed angry with your partner.

She heard Hardy ruffle through papers, and she knew without looking what he was reading. The same bloody file day after day. She wanted to throw it in the sea, let the fish solve that case.

"Would you… like a cup of coffee?" he asked.

This time, she did look at him over her shoulder. It was the nicest thing he'd said to her in the last twelve hours.

"No."

She turned her eyes back to the water.

"Tea?"

"No."

"Orange juice?"

She didn't answer, and he sighed heavily. She heard him get back in the house, and she thought that was the end of the efforts he was willing to make.

A few minutes later, she heard the muted sound of bare feet on concrete and the smell of coffee reached her. A mint green mug topped with frothy milk appeared in her field of view.

She didn't take it.

"Just take it."

From his tone of voice, she could tell he was done with sulking. She accepted his peace offering.

She took a few sips, the warmth in her throat a contrast to the cool water at her feet. Hardy stayed by her side, she could see his reflection on the water, stoic, patient. Only the squawk of seagulls filled the silence.

She wished she knew what was going on in his heart.

Something in the rich beverage and in the sky slowly turning peach appeased her. She rested her head against his knee, and shortly after, his fingertips caressed the top of her hair.

"I'm sorry," he said.

As a reply, she rubbed his calf.

"I don't… I don't want to make the same mistake I made with Tess. I don't want to push you away… but I can feel myself getting pulled back in that frame of mind and I…" The sentence ended on a sharp exhale.

She craned her neck to look up at him, his gaze was trained on the horizon, his jaw clenched. She reached for his hand. Finally, he locked eyes with her, and she smiled gently, encouragingly. His features relaxed but they were still undecipherable.

She could have told him that she was nothing like his ex-wife, that she would talk to him instead of sleeping with someone else. However, Hannah wasn't sure how true that was.

She put her mug down and stood up. A hug would do them both a world of good.

The cotton of his t-shirt was soft against her cheek and the skin of his throat was warm and musky on the tip of her nose. His arms met around her waist and pulled her closer. He sighed, contentedly this time, and kissed her forehead.

In the years before the Gillespie girls disappeared, before he got sick, he was the one she called when she needed someone. When it felt like it was her against the world, he was on her side. Now it was his turn to be against the world. She hoped she could be as strong for him as he'd been for her. She had to keep him afloat through this but she might drown trying.

"I'm afraid I'll lose you," he confessed.

His fingers dug in the flesh of her back, his nose now buried in the crook of her neck.

"Me too."

She tightened her hold on him.

She was glad he couldn't see her face because no matter how much she wanted to reassure him, she couldn't muster up a brave front.

"Let's go back to bed," she said simply.

He glanced at the documents on the doorstep, and she held her breath, sensing his hesitation.

"Okay."

They walked back inside the house, hand in hand.

Morning light escaped from each side of the curtains, so they pulled the cool sheets over their heads, keeping the outside world firmly away from them at least for a little while.

She nudged her knee between his thighs and their hands slipped under each other's clothes and when they kissed, their hearts realigned.

"We're only just beginning you and me," she spoke into his skin.

He nodded before taking her mouth again. And in that moment it felt like the purest truth.


	5. Episode 3 part 2

Set during episode 3

* * *

><p>At least, they'd had a good hour in bed before being disturbed by a phone call. Hardy walked out of the house, still talking, and she stopped eating her apple to eavesdrop on his conversation.<p>

"I don't know, Claire won't talk to me. I'm gonna need you to talk to her… oh that's nice tell 'em congratulation… yeah okay."

He hung up on Ellie and turned towards Hannah. The way he looked at her was more inquisitive than usual, she could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

"What?" she asked, warily.

"I need you to help Ellie," he said, "take her out to a bar or something, with her… friend and keep an eye out for her."

"What happened to 'it's dangerous, you should leave'?"

He placed his hands on his hips, she knew that stance meant business.

"If you're gonna stay here, you might as well make yourself useful."

"Sorry?" she asked, offended.

"It's safe, you'll just need to stay with Ellie. Claire doesn't even have to know you're with me… Think of it as role play. Go as Belle."

She took a big bite from her apple, buying herself some time to mull over his request as she chewed. She wasn't sure what to make of it. Was that why he'd apologized earlier? She wouldn't put it past him.

Whether it really was safe or not, she had no intention of jumping in without all the information. If she was going to help, she needed to know the whole story.

"Tell me everything," she demanded.

He hesitated, running a hand over his mouth and cheek while a furious debate took place in his head. There would be no going back after this. He was dragging her deeper and deeper into this mess. If something happened to her, he would never be able to forgive himself.

But he knew she could help. One thing he'd always appreciated about her was her divergent mindset. More than once, he'd called her with a problem knowing she would make him see things he hadn't considered before. When all your friends and family are in the police you can get stuck, Hannah asked questions no one else thought of asking.

It was a matter of deciding if solving this case was worth the risk.

"Look, Alec, I can't stay safe if I don't even know what the danger is."

"Yeah, okay," he said, resigned.

Sitting down on the doorstep, he put on his glasses while Hannah kneeled behind him. With her chin on his shoulder she could see the file opened in front of them.

She already knew quite a lot about the case itself from things she'd seen on the news and the few times they'd talked back then. But she had no idea about Claire being in Broadchurch or about Lee coming back. She refrained from scolding him when he recounted what had happened at Ellie's house.

She asked Hardy questions, the right ones judging by the proud look on his face. And she found she was really enjoying this. They were a team, she realized. They had each other's back.

Getting mixed up in someone else's business had never felt so right.

* * *

><p>Ellie tried on one of the several pairs of shoes Hannah had laid out for her on the carpet by the bed.<p>

"Not sure about the colour, try these," Hannah said, pointing at another pair.

Leaning against the door jamb, hands buried in his pockets, Hardy observed their feminine ritual. Hannah drank the last of her rosé, giving her new BFF the once-over before nodding approvingly.

"So, how long have you known each other?" Ellie asked.

"Five? Almost six years?" Hardy answered.

"Oh, so you knew her when you were married?"

Alec and Hannah exchanged an embarrassed look.

"Sorry, didn't mean to imply…"

"No, that's fine, we were—"

"Friends, good friends," Hannah jumped in, "but I think he's had a crush on me since the beginning."

"I do not have crushes," Hardy muttered.

"No, you're right, I should've said you were maaaaadly in love with me since the beginning."

"You're blushing, sir."

Alec huffed and the girls giggled. Hannah simply couldn't resist teasing him, it was too easy.

"Aaww, don't be embarrassed, honeybear."

"Don't."

"My darling sweetheart," she added, batting her eyelashes.

"No."

She winked at him, and he shook his head, trying to hide a smile.

Still giggling, Ellie picked up their empty glasses and headed to the kitchen for more wine.

Alec walked closer to Hannah, she was applying lipstick and their eyes met in the mirror.

"Madly. That's one word for it," he said.

His voice was affectionate, his eyes warm— bedroom eyes she called it. She smacked her lips and smiled at him.

"Madly," she agreed.

Holding her gaze in the mirror, he put an arm around her waist. His fingers slipped under the green silk top as he kissed her head.

She turned in his arms to kiss him properly, lipstick be damned. Their mouths moved eagerly together and the kiss grew more heated than it should have considering they had company. Her hands slipped in his back pockets, giving his bum a little squeeze as she pulled him closer. He chuckled against her lips. His own hands were now higher up on her back, still under her top, pressing in her flesh, following the curve of her ribs.

"Wake me up when you come back," he said in the crook of her neck.

* * *

><p>Hannah sat at the bar, poking a slice of lime at the bottom of her glass with a straw. Her eyes flitted between the mushed piece of citrus and the clock above the rows of liquor bottles. Ellie should arrive any minute with Claire. They'd decided it would be better to come separately, in case Lee was at the house.<p>

There were familiar butterflies in her stomach, the same kind she got when she walked through a hotel lobby to meet a new client. Maybe she shouldn't be so excited about this, but after days of relative calm, she welcomed the thrill of going undercover.

Claire was… odd. Hannah liked to think she was a good judge of character, but she couldn't quite pinpoint what was off about Hardy's witness.

She managed to keep an agreeable front and make up answers to her questions. When Claire went to the loo, she kept an eye out while Ellie snooped around in her mobile.

As the night wore on, she started to feel like the third wheel— or fifth, in this case. The bloke Claire had chosen kept leering at Hannah and it became clear that Claire wanted her to leave. As much as she did want to do just that, she had to look out for Ellie.

They were all hungry and it was decided that they should seek deep fried stuff at a nearby fair. They more or less staggered out of the pub. The cool night air was a relief.

"You don't have to come with us," Ellie said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll be fine."

"Yeah?"

The older woman nodded but it looked like she wanted to say more. Hannah waited, sending Alec a text while Ellie fiddled with her necklace.

"D'you think I should… do it?" She glanced meaningfully towards the bloke who'd been talking to her all night. "I haven't done this in ages."

She was taken aback by Ellie's question. On one hand, she'd always been an advocate for sexual healing and the man seemed harmless enough. On the other hand, Ellie's circumstances were unusual.

"Erm, well, d'you like him?"

"He's cute… he said he liked my eyes."

She smiled, but there was just a hint of despair in her eyes that broke Hannah's heart. She'd been there too, feeling lonely and unloved. Being desired, there was no feeling like it. If that bloke made Ellie feel attractive, maybe that was enough, Hannah reckoned. That's what she'd do.

"Don't forget to use protection." They laughed uneasily. "Just… only do it if it feels right."

"I think so, s'just I have to decide now, 'cause we'll take his car…"

Digging in her purse, Hannah pulled out a couple of pound notes— more than enough for a cab ride— and placed them in Ellie's hand.

"You can change your mind anytime."

* * *

><p>Hannah walked with her hands trailing along the wooden fence on each side of the path leading to the seaside house. Not only was the passage dimly lit, but she was unsteady on her feet. The alcohol had kicked in with a delay, it made her feel warm and light-headed. Alec had asked her to wake him up, and she had every intention to do so.<p>

As she neared the house, she heard an unfamiliar man's voice.

"Do blue bells even grow in France?"

Then, she saw him: tall, narrow eyes, hair grayer than on the photos. She couldn't shake off the feeling that she'd seen Lee Ashworth before. She didn't know where, but she knew she wanted to kick him in the balls.

She hoped to avoid him, but it was too late, he'd seen her.

"Well, well, looks like the good detective has got himself a pretty bird."

Her heart hammered in her chest as Lee looked at her predatorily. She had to think fast.

"What?"

Brilliant.

"Frankly, I didn't think he had it in him," Lee continued, walking closer.

"Sorry, I think I've got the wrong house."

Playing the dumb blonde was always a good fall back strategy. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and let out a high-pitched giggle. She tried to walk away at a natural pace, hoping he wouldn't follow.

"No, you've got the right place. I've seen you around here before."

Hannah gulped. Before she could think of another lie, Hardy had come out of the house.

"Leave her alone, Ashworth."

Lee ignored him, he stayed between them, facing Hannah with a curious look in his eyes.

"How can you like him? This man ruined my life. He'd rather harass me than try to find the real killer. He keeps my wife prisoner," his voice was low but aggressive, he pointed an accusing finger at Hardy behind him. "He is not a good man. He is toxic."

Hannah was too shaken to think of a reply, and she narrowly avoided being knocked down when he walked past her.

Hardy was at her side immediately, putting an arm around her shoulders, rubbing up and down as if she was cold. They stared at Lee's receding silhouette until it was out of sight.

"You all right," Hardy asked.

"Yeah. You?"

When he didn't answer, she glanced at him. He had that lost look in his big brown eyes. She cupped his cheek, his scuff tickling her palm.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know what to think anymore."


End file.
